Phobetor
by DepressoxEspresso
Summary: "You realize it now, don't you Isabella?" For her entire life, those words had stuck with her. She had thought she knew the answer to that, but now...?


'_You realize it now, don't you?'_

She didn't want to turn around. She didn't want to see the smile she knew her _mother_ had plastered across her face. _All this time, all this effort… was it truly for nothing?_

Isabella stood at the edge of the wall - the wall she had thought separated her from freedom. The wall that was the only obstacle between her and a _future_.

Her last chance to not become food.

Her last chance to take herself out of this nightmare disguised as a dream.

But fate was cruel. Too cruel for an eleven year old to fully comprehend. She was _so close_. The forest, the outside world, it was all _right there!_ Between her and the wall, the only thing that was stopping her from her freedom was the cliff. _Why hadn't she expected there to be a cliff?!_

The wind howled through the chasm, causing her hair to whip in her face. The only thing stopping her from becoming food was the cliff - but it didn't have to be the end. She could still manage. She could jump. She could take away their precious meal right from between their clawed fingertips. She could die a human; _not food_.

"Come on now, Isabella," her mother's voice once more, sickly sweet like soured honey. Once, she loved this woman. Once she would have listened to every demand she ushered. But now she knew it was all a lie. A facade to bring up the highest quality meat for market consumption.

Everything was a lie. The house, the tests, the adoptions, the _wall._ _Everything._

Another gust of wind blew her momentarily off her feet. Isabella raised her arms, allowing the strong gusts to push and pull at her body. If she fell now, there would be nothing they could do. She was set to be _shipped_ in a months time, anyways. What was so different about dying now or dying later?

She closed her eyes, imagining what it would feel like. To allow gravity to take hold. To make her fly. Would she truly be free then, from the moment she lept to the second her body collided with the ground? If only she were a bird. Then she could simply spread her wings and fly away. No walls, no cliffs, could contain her then.

She took another step forward, leaning down ever so slightly to get a better look down the chasm. She couldn't see the bottom, no matter how hard she squinted. Surely, bottomless pits didn't exist, right? There had to be an end somewhere. Would she die instantly when she landed? Or would she simply break a few bones and crush a few organs, left only to suffer alone in the dark for however long it took the internal bleeding to finally kill her? Would they still be able to retrieve her body after the fall? Was it even worth it?

She shook away the thought, recoiling back. Behind her she heard the ruffling of fabric, and out of fear her mother had began to climb the wall after her, she looked back.

There her mother stood, hand extended towards her, ushering to come down off the wall.

"You realize it now, don't you, Isabella?"

_There is no escape._

Her mother smiled, though there was no affection nor joy behind it. It was maniacal, like an animal who was about to go in for the kill. She made no effort to climb up after her, simply standing there, knowing her presence would be enough to dissuade Isabella from doing anything reckless. A symbol of love in a life long passed, now an enigma of hopelessness.

Isabella turned to face her mother. There was a bitter taste to her mouth, like rotting meat and dirt. "That's a good girl." Her mother's coy smile looked more like a monster's than a humans in that moment. "That's right. There's no escape. It's best to just _give up_. Accept your fate and it will all go away."

_But it won't go away._

"All the pain."

_It hurts so much._

"All the sadness."

_It's so bitter._

"You'll be happy again."

_Liar, liar, liar!_

"So please, won't you come down?"

Snow fell around them like ash falling on a dead world. She didn't believe her mother, not one word. But… she did want to _live. _What was she thinking, trying to jump? Her knees buckled under her own weight and her eyes stung as she tried to hold back her tears. She wanted to live.

_She wanted to live!_

Isabella took hold of the rope she had used to swing her way up the wall, holding the soft fabric of torn bed sheets between her cold fingers. She no longer dared to think; she didn't want to anymore. The rope that was meant to take her from this cage to her freedom, now a leash tying her back down.

She swung back down to the field below, somewhat hoping she would crash into a tree or for the rope to break - maybe if she were injured bad enough, she would earn herself some more time. She closed her eyes, allowing the winter air to slash across her face, imagining herself falling into the canyon that was just over the wall.

She hit something warm. She was quickly enveloped in softness, a soft hush whistling passed her ears. The words hardly registered, simply a drole of comforting phrases and coos.

"You know, this doesn't have to be the end." Her mother whispered softly as she pat her head. "If you'd like, I can recommend you to become a '_Mother'_"

* * *

_**8 years later**_

Headquarters was no home. And certainly, it was no place for a child. The contrast between Isabella's life in Grace field to now was more stark than night and day. At least the night had stars to illuminate the sky and shy away the world's demons.

But now, she was trapped inside that same hellish world.

Here, there was no escape. Here, nothing of her old life remained. Nothing but her number, her name, and a song from a boy long gone.

For the past eight years Isabella had been subjected to the worst tortures she would have never imagined could be inflicted on a human. Experiments, forced surgeries, an implant that prevented escape. Her captors, the very demons she had only dreamt about in her worst nightmares.

Here, many of her fellow girls didn't live to see their 13th birthdays. Even fewer, their 14th. be it from falling too far behind and being harvested, death from another human girl - or worst of all, trying to escape only for the implant on their heart to blow their chest out.

Isabella learned very quickly that there was only two ways out. Death, or as a mother or sister.

Competition was tough, and Isabella was constantly made to be on her toes. She had to be the best in everything if she wanted to survive. Best in wits, physical abilities, singing, sewing - she had learned everything she needed to raise the most valuable children possible.

From age 16 onward, she was made to work in the nursery, branding babies, tattooing their identification numbers on their necks, weaning them from their mothers. It was hard work at first, and she had to fight to not grow attached to each child that passed her by. Human and demon worked side-by-side in this ward. Whether this was to keep the "mothers-to-be" in line or to ensure each baby met their own, personal qualifications did not matter to Isabella. She had a hard time caring about anything those days.

But this too, was all for her survival. Each child that she held, each baby that she branded - each one was another life that would eventually be sacrificed. But soon, Isabella found herself focusing less on how each human baby was meant to be food, and more on the life they would live inside the plantations. She would imagine each baby surrounded by love and warmth, never going hungry, never knowing pain or real sorrow. It was her solace in a world that she was besting. A fate she had avoided herself.

The training was meant to steel her. To prepare her for the emotional toll of both raising many children, as well as sending them out to die. It was the fastest way to weed out those who could fill the role of mama and those who deserved to be on a plate. For Isabella, there was only one option, and she would cast aside even her own humanity if it meant achieving it.

The final test finally came on her 18th birthday. On that day, she was taken to a room and laid down on a cushioned seat. She did not know what was happening, it was never once explained, and she did not ask.

The lights of the room were bright, yet somehow the corners remained shrouded in shadows. Her skin glistened with sticky sweat, the air oppressive enough to make the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. The door creaked open and an older, human woman dressed in pink scrubs and a white coat entered. They did not speak to one another, there was no need to. They would never meet again, and there was no stopping whatever was about to happen.

The woman ruffled with some papers on a counter in one of the darker corners of the room. When she walked back over towards Isabella, she gave her a once over before scribbling something down on a chart. Her eyes were cold, like staring into the dead eyes of a fish. The eyes of someone who no longer held the capacity for empathy.

The woman placed a mask over Isabella's face and the world soon began to blur. When she woke up again, she was back in her room. Nothing remained of the time in that weird room other than the memory and a dull ache between her legs.

Sickness, pain, swelling. All of this Isabella would come to know within the months following that day in the room. She spent a majority of her time in her room those days, her only real exercise limited to a few hours a day. The elder woman had begun watching her closely, as well. They drew blood frequently, and soon Isabella had more tiny scars on her arm than she could count.

She had seen pregnant women before. There were always a few out in the yards or in the halls while Isabella was growing up. But access to information on pregnancy was limited. It was only when she had begun to see her own belly grow that she finally realized what had happened to her.

It was when she almost broke.

Caring for children was one thing. It was easy to distance yourself - to turn faces into numbers and dates. It was another to carry a child into this world of demons and death. The son or daughter she would bring into this world yet never get to hold, never get to name; never get to love.

This was the final test, and she knew it.

One day her own baby would become a meal, and that was nearly unbearable to think about.

Ignorance was bliss, and she wished for nothing more than those days at Grace Field when she knew nothing of the outside world. How foolish she was to strive for a life beyond the gate. All of her siblings that died not knowing the truth. Perhaps, that really was the best life a human could ever expect in this world.

One day, she would become a mother. Not just literally with the birth of her child, but metaphorically when she becomes the head of a plant. If she couldn't detach herself from this, she would be disposed of in the blink of an eye.

She would work harder than ever before to reach that goal. If she had to sacrifice her own child to get there, it no longer mattered. If she could just become a mother, everything would change for the better. Everything would finally go her way in her own, small world.

It was a small goal, she knew that. If there was one thing Isabella could control in this life, it was that.

Her second trimester passed by uneventfully, going into the third. She spent her days alone in her dim room, rubbing her growing child and humming absentmindedly. She imagined the life her baby would live inside the farms. The child that she would bear and never get the chance to raise.

_This is for survival. _

Finally the day came when she was taken back into that bright room. The same room they had taken her to get her implant in her heart. The same one where they had impregnated her. The room they would forcibly take her child away from her in.

She supposed most women would grieve this moment. She was sure in any other circumstance, the day of her child's birth would have been her happiest. When she was a kid herself she would often dream of the day she would hold her own baby in her arms. But now, all she wanted was to be rid of the burden.

For one last time, Isabella woke up in her room. Her hands instinctively went to her stomach, somehow expecting to feel the bump that she had grown familiar with over the past few months. She flinched only slightly at the regained flatness. Nothing left of her time with the child but an unsightly scar and throbbing pain.

Just this once, she allowed herself to grieve.

* * *

_**12 years later**_

Isabella stood up from her desk, carefully rolling up the headset set used to communicate with headquarters. It was late at night, much later than even she was used to stay up, but it was also crucial that she did.

The clock struck twelve, the steady _tick, tick, tick_ of the pendulum counting down the seconds as time relentlessly continued to pass. There was no more stalling, no way to freeze this moment. Today, this game she had been playing with Ray and Emma would end.

There would be no sleep tonight, not with the last chance those two had to pull something to escape. Her best merchandise, meals fit only for a king. There was more at stake than simply having to set back a shipment date if something were to happen.

Yet, some small part of her still didn't want to go through with this. Whatever part of her heart had yet to die screamed out in agony to spare him - to spare her one and only son. She had thought that giving birth to a child she would never see was her final test… how wrong she was. Nothing could compare to the pain she felt now.

But regardless, she swallowed the pain, she swallowed the guilt. There was no escaping this world. There was no changing your fate. You can kick and scream and fight, but it would never change how they were all nothing more than birds trapped in cages.

She pushed her chair back in to its place, looking towards the calendar that hung low on the wall. It was around this time 12 years ago that she had begun this journey, it was only fitting it end on this day as well.

January 15. The day of her son's birth.

She walked over to the calendar, picking up a bright red marker she used to count down the days. A red circle covered the date, the square filled with only one name. _Ray._

She crossed off the 14th and looked into the space where her own sons name was written. "_Happy birthday, Ray," _She smiled to herself. _It's been a good 12 years._

"_**Ray**__!"_

Moments after she heard the scream, she could smell the stench of gasoline and burning wood. She had expected them to try something tonight, but a fire?

She rushed from the room, not bothering to gather anything in her rush. She could hear what sounded like Emma crying as well as a trail of smoke that was leading from the dining room. Sobs mixed in the crackling of wood and the swirling sounds of ignition. Her blood ran cold, her mind only focused on one thing.

She careened into the dining room to find the conflagration having nearly consumed the room. Emma lay on the ground in a heap, her tears pooling onto the wood below as she repeated the same name over and over again. "_Ray… Ray… Ray…!"_

"_He's in there?!" _Isabella gasped, speaking more to herself rather than asking Emma. She pulled out her pocket watch, the one which allowed her to locate any one of the children at a glance only to see two glowing dots. One to her left -Emma, - and one directly ahead inside the flames.

"_Ray!" _Emma continued to cry, and Isabella's heart stopped in her chest.

Now wasn't the time for fear. If the fire continued on like this, the building would surely cave in - the foundation burned away to nothing but ash. Instinct took over as Isabella rushed back upstairs with intent to alert headquarters of the situation.

Gilda was on the stairs, looking on to the scene as Isabella rushed up. She must have woken up when Emma screamed, but that was perfect. Gilda could lead the other kids to safety while Isabella tried to put out the flames - _as she tried to save Ray._

She burst back into her room, listening behind her to hear the sound of the children being led back downstairs. Isabella threw the bookshelf the blocked the door to the communications room open, uncaring as several books fell down to the floor. She scrambled to find her key, pulling it out of her nightgown pocket with shaking hands. _Come on! Unlock, unlock, unlock damn it!_

The key wouldn't fit inside the lock no matter how hard she tried. Had it become jammed somehow? She was running out of time!

She grabbed a spare fire extinguisher, rushing back to the dining room. If she could just save Ray's brain from the fire then….

_Then what?_ She would spare her own life? The house was on fire, her son caught in the blaze, and yet her first thought was to spare her own life over his. Her first thought was still on her own survival, not on that of the very children she had sworn to raise.

And for once, she hated herself for it.

"Emma!" Isabella barked as she emptied the fire extinguisher, tossing it to the side carelessly. "I can handle things here, you need to escape with the res-"

Emma was no longer at her side. When had she left? She was still there when Isabella came back into the room. Had she already left to join the others? She wouldn't run into the flames to try to save Ray, would she?!

She pulled out her pocket watch once more. The tracker still indicated a body inside the flames. Outside, just around the bend of the hallway, a second dot lay unmoving.

_Emma_.

Isabella ran frantically into the hallway, fearing the worst. Yet, the hallway was empty. Nothing but an empty bucket and a single, left ear left bleeding on the floor.

Realization dawned on Isabella like a brick. _All of the children - They were wearing shoes._

* * *

_You realize it now, don't you?_

The words of Isabella's childhood rang in her mind as she ran across the wall. The same wall that separated her from the outside world. The same wall that had started all of this.

She did realize it now. She realized how stupid she was, how easily she gave into this worlds twisted view. How she became a willing pawn in their organization.

The kids aged 5 and up, every last one of them waited across the chasm. Makeshift rope made of bed sheets and grapples of clothes hangers stretched across the same gap that blocked her escape all those years ago.

A rush of cold air swirled up and around her as she approached the last remaining child within her reach. _Emma_. The girl who she had seen herself in. The girl she had raised to one day fill her shoes. The one who had shown her, after all this time, that this world could be beaten.

"_Please," _Isabella spoke, though her own voice sounded foreign to her now. "_Don't do this. Don't leave me."_

_I don't want to die._

She was able to hold those final words, leaving them unspoken to no one but herself. Even now she could only think of her own self preservation. Even now, after the children had found a way to forge their own future - their own chance to survive, she was concerned with herself.

Emma looked at her with eyes not of pity, but genuine sorrow. Even after all Isabella had done to her, how could she look at her with anything but disdain?

Perhaps, that's what separated the two of them from the start. Not their intellect or their upbringing, but her ability to trust in others. Her ability to care for their sake even when starring her own death directly in the face.

Isabella made no move to stop Emma as she secured herself on the line, sliding down to the ground below.

_You realize it now, don't you._

Norman had asked her if she was happy. She hadn't thought much of it then, just the words of a boy being sent to a fate worse than death. A ploy to try to faze her. She had told him then that she was. Back then, she believed those words. But now, she knew she was lying to herself. She's been lying to herself this entire time.

_You realize it now, Isabella. It was never meant to be just you. It was never meant to be you against the world. _

_You realize it now._

For the first time in a very long time, the Grace Field house emitted warmth. Physical, tangible warmth - only, it wasn't from the children she raised, it wasn't from the laughter or play. It came from the burning building behind her. The death of everything she's ever worked towards.

All the children she'd raised. The reputation she had built for herself. Her most prized cattle. _Her own son_. They were all gone in an instant. They had outsmarted her. They had outsmarted the farm.

She was sure to be punished for her failure. Maybe she would even lose her life. Her deals with Grandma, whatever relationship she had built with the man who brought her items from the outside world for Ray; none of that would save her now. It was the end.

But now, she accepted this.

This world that had torn her from her childhood, her friends, her family. The world that had stolen her freedom, her heart and her emotions.

She realized now how foolish she was through it all. She played directly into her captors hands, had become a pawn they could mold at their own will. And she allowed them to, without question. She allowed them to isolate her, to pit her against her fellow man and make her believe that it was her against the world.

Everything she's ever done was out of love. Each child she raised to be sent out to die, each lie, each deception. Her deal with Ray, her recommendation to send Norman to Lambda, breaking Emma's leg. It was all for their own protection, so they could continue to live their days as idyllic as possible.

But, they had beaten the system that she had fallen prey for. They had escaped. And yet, despite everything she'd ever done, she was still trapped.

The building behind her crackled to life, it's orange glow bathing both Isabella and all the children aged four and under in an eerie glow. Snow and ash fell all around Isabella as she awaited what would be her end.

All she could hope now was that the children who had escaped would survive. That would would find a way to be free of this neverland. That would would find a life they were deserving of.

The life she could never have.

Several women came through the gates that night. Each collecting a sleeping child and pulling them away from Isabella's care. They exchanged no words, only pained glances between one another as they worked. Somehow, each child that left to go beyond the gate left a hole in Isabellas heart.

By the time day broke, Isabella sat alone under the lone tree in the middle of the plantation. The fire had gone out long ago, leaving nothing but smoldering ashes where there once stood a family home. The smell of soot, burnt paint and various other chemicals wafted through the air in an intoxicating mixture.

She burned the sight into her mind. The proof of her failure, both as a mother, but mostly as a human. The sun rose above the horizon, the dawn of what would likely be her last day. At least she could see this one, final sunrise.

From the gate her Grandmother, accompanied with a lone demon, approached over the hill. Her face remained emotionless, her frame stoic. She said nothing, but Isabella knew to follow without question.

Before she crossed through the gate, Isabella took one last look towards the skyline. A silent prayer whispered to whoever would be willing to listen to the words of a dead woman.

"_Be well, my children. I hope you survive to overcome this cruel world once more."_

The gates crashed closed behind her. "It's time." Grandmother croaked, extending her hand towards her just as she had done all those years ago when she had tried to jump off the wall.

Isabella nodded, taking hold of her hand for one, final time and going following her into the dark of the corridor.

"_Goodbye, my children."_


End file.
